


Catch Me

by HalfASlug



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 23:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6446944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfASlug/pseuds/HalfASlug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One came out of nowhere and the other came back from the dead. Now they’ve got to build a life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch Me

Her hands are bleeding. The once white wall in front of her now has smears of red across it and it kind of makes it better for her. She’s changing something. She’s doing something. It doesn’t feel like her actions are in vain though she knows they are.

The pleading voices behind her have stopped trying to calm her. She’s grateful that she doesn’t have the constant reminder that they are watching this most spectacular of breakdowns because she suspects she’ll be embarrassed later. Right now, she can’t imagine it ever ending. It wouldn’t surprise her if she were still here, screaming and pounding away for the rest of her life. The alternative is walking away and accepting defeat.

Rose Tyler has never been one for taking the hand life gives her and making do.

“Rose, c'mon, let’s-”

She whips around and sees Mickey holding her mother, the latter crying while the former looks close and a handful of Torchwood agents. The speaker, however, is the man stood slightly in front of the crowd, holding a hand out to her. The last time she’d had any real interaction with this man he’d turned her away and another man had held her through the subsequent tears.

The man that is now lost to her forever on the other side of this bastard wall.

“No!” Rose screeches, barely aware of what she is saying or how broken her voice sounds. “No! You don’t get to say anything! Not you!”

The man backs away, just like he had on the bank of the Thames, and Rose wants nothing more than for him to keep walking, all the way out of her life again. He has no right to see her like this.

* * *

She barely remembers the first week of her new life. There’s a lot of Torchwood people telling her the cover story and Vitex people giving her an image in between a lot of crying in private and being silent in front of everyone. It’s all a blur of everything being too close to her but not close enough for her to touch it and Mickey sitting with her because he’s the only one that seems to understand that talking isn’t going to help this in any way.

Pete avoids her for the most part. Small talk over breakfast is the best they’ve managed so far. Rose is grateful that he doesn’t try for any more.

The hardest parts are when she’s with her mum and she tries to hide it all. Her mum has taken to all of this with surprising ease - the money, the fame… her husband. In the periphery of her vision she watches her fall in love with the one man she could never get over. Rose smiles as much as she can to show she’s just happy that she’s happy and listens to her mum go on about how the plugs are different and how TV has changed. To her it isn’t different; it’s wrong.

Nearly twenty-one years she’s known her mum, and Rose can honestly say that this is the happiest that she has ever seen her and she just can’t bring herself to be the one to spoil it.

Still. It’s hard watching her mum get everything she ever wanted while the love of her life is still stuck finding a way back to her. If Pete Tyler could come back from the dead with her mum’s dream life then the Doctor can come back from another universe with hers.

* * *

The drive across Europe is one of the most unpleasant things Rose has ever experienced.

Her mum flits between supportive and irritable as she gets over-tired while Mickey and Pete discuss the Jeep, roadworks and maps in that infuriating way blokes do when they need to make small talk. Two days of “How much insurance are you paying on this thing, Pete?” and “A bloke at the garage tried to fob me off with dodgy suspension” and Rose loudly requests that they find a service station just so she can stretch her legs and escape the suffocating testosterone.

Sitting on a bench, looking out at a Danish car park, Rose closes her eyes and hears her name being called from across the stars. It’s enough to calm her.

Her bags are packed, the nightmare is over and she’s going back.

“But what if it’s just… I dunno… dreams or something?”

“You don’t know the Doctor, love. If anyone can do… whatever this is, then it’s him.”

Her mum and Pete have stepped away from the car, not noticing where she’s sitting, and their voices are being carried by the sharp wind.

“I know she’s… ” She hears Pete sigh. “What if she  _thinks_  she can hear it?”

There’s a very heavy pause in which Rose feels her ribs contract until her entire chest feels compressed under her bomber jacket.

“Sorry.” Whatever look her mum has given him is enough to make Pete sound terrified.

“If she says the Doctor is calling her, then he’s calling her and we’re supporting her. That is my daughter and I am not going to call her a liar or abandon her!”

Her mum’s footsteps stomp off, soon followed by Pete’s and Rose closes her eyes again. This time she doesn’t hear his voice and she’s shaking before she can stop herself.

Rose thinks of her dad, her _real_ dad, and knows he wouldn’t have questioned her like this. He was a dreamer of crazy dreams who never gave up, as well. She gets it all from him. A tiny voice tells her that this is all based on stories she’s been told and that she has no way of ever knowing what her real dad would have done.

But then again, she does. She knows, deep down, that he would have accepted her story and would go to the ends of the Earth to help her. He’d have stopped at nothing to make her happy and safe. He’d have given his life for her and she has never missed the man she’s never truly known as much as she does now.

* * *

“How long has it been?” Rose asks, hating how raw her voice still is even though stopped crying ages ago. At least she can blame the wind coming off the sea for her red-rimmed eyes, but the headache and the sore throat are definitely her making.

“Three hours,” Mickey replies. “Two and a half more, babe.”

Rose nods and rests her head of his shoulder. Without him, sat patiently next to her, both of them slowly freezing, she doubts she’d be able to speak right now.

She can see the Doctor, in her mind’s eye, in the console room, staring at the time rotor with unsaid words turning to ash on his lips. This whole thing must be tearing him apart inside and she wishes she could stop it hurting for him. For both of them.

Instead, it seems that this must be how her fairytale ends. Sometimes frogs become princes. Sometimes Genies are freed. Sometimes Time Lords run out of time.

Two and half hours pass and she has no reason to stay here anymore. She ignores Mickey’s offer of help to get off the sand, but snuggles under his arm as he leads her back to the Jeep.

She doesn’t look back to the spot where he faded and took her hope and heart with him.

Her mum is out of the passenger seat and wrapping her in a hug before she notices that she’s crying again.

“Does this mean she’s staying here for good, then?” Pete ask Mickey quietly but she still hears it. Realistically she knows he meant nothing bad by it. All of this is new to him and, sat on the outside of it all, it must be hard to keep up with everything. He’s only asking for final confirmation, but if there is a day that she isn’t thinking straight, then it is today and Pete Tyler has unwittingly become the first person to say this out loud.

“Yes, I’m stuck here!” she screams, pushing her mum away and the hair out of her face. “Sorry about that, but I’m as happy about it as you are. You can trust me on that!”

Pete stutters through an apology that Rose doesn’t care about and shouts over. Half of the things she’s saying she knows aren’t true, but if she can just concentrate on being angry and yelling then she might never have to deal with everything else she’s feeling.

“You got everything you wanted!” she finally gets out. She can see her mum crying by Mickey, but she only has eyes for the hurt look of the man wearing her father’s face. “You got Mum and a baby and your business and I’m just some - some extra baggage you can’t wait to get rid of!”

“No, I-”

“You think I’m mad! I know I only got my job because Mum asked. I’m not as stupid as you think I am!”

“You didn’t-”

It just keeps coming. For what seems like hours she is hurling insults and accusations that come from nowhere until her voice breaks and Pete is staring at her like she might explode. Even then, she wants to carry on. It doesn’t matter if she permanently damages her vocal chords because this is a messed up dream and dreams have no consequences.

Eventually she feels her mum pull her into a hug and goes willing because she doubts she can stand by herself anymore.

“I _am_ trying,” Pete says from somewhere. “I just - I don’t know.”

Rose holds her mum tighter. It turns out making someone feel as broken as you do does nothing to heal you after all.

* * *

Unlike most people, Rose has never minded hospitals all that much. The only part she avoids is the little shop.

So when her little brother is born and she sees him, blue eyes blinking at his father, and being around people starts to make her skin crawl, she slips out to the cafe instead. It’s early morning and the place is a mix of people who have been awake all night grabbing some dinner and those still half-asleep, blearily selecting a cereal.

Rose, as she always is these days, is somewhere between the two groups.

While the small seating area is filled with people, none of them are paying her any attention which makes it infinitely better than the private room her mum is resting in. There she has to smile and make conversation, putting on the charade that she’s okay, and it’s completely exhausting in every way. She knows she should be happy about her brother and relieved her mum’s all right, but she only feels numb. The only thing that reached her was seeing Pete smiling at the child that was really his and even that only hurt in the distant way that everything sort of hurts now.

She’s unsure of how long she’s been staring at her untouched cup of now-cold tea when Pete sits across from her and passes her a bowl, spoon, jug of milk and a small box of Frosties. The dog on the front grins at her and Rose rolls her eyes. Even Tony the fucking Tiger got to stay on the right side of the bloody void.

“Have you had anything for breakfast yet?” Pete asks, his excitement shining through his tired eyes. “I’d have got you toast but God knows how long it’s been sitting out there. Can’t trust hospital food. Frosties are always a safe bet though. They'rrrrrre smashing!” For a second he looks a bit embarrassed to have done the voice from the advert but New Dad pride soon wins out and he’s grinning again.

“They’re great.”

“Exactly. Do you want some?”

Rose bites her tongue, the memory of everything she said in Norway still making her feel guilty. “No, thanks.”

Pete sighs and helps himself to the food. As she watches him eat, Rose tries to remember the last time she actually ate and finds she can’t remember though she isn’t hungry in the slightest.

“How’s the baby?” she asks.

Pete looks up from the bowl in surprise. It’s one of the first times that she’s started a conversation with him. “Um… yeah. He’s asleep. Both of them are. But, yeah, he’s great.”

“Just like Tony.”

“Eh?”

“Never mind.” Rose takes a sip of her tea, trying to keep any evidence of how foul it is from her expression. She can’t have Pete know she’s been down here, doing nothing but take up a table for however long she’s been gone.

He frowns at her, picking at his cereal and compulsively checking his watch. It’s odd seeing him like this. He’s usually so calm and collected, but whether it’s the three caffeine-filled VitexX he’s necked or the cocktail of emotions from becoming a father rushing through him, he’s fidgeting like a schoolchild in the minutes before hometime. Over the past few months, she’s seen him take care of her mum, read every parenthood book he could find and even cry over sonogram pictures. Despite everything she’s hurled at him, he isn’t a bad man. Not even close.

“You’ll be a great dad,” she tells him.

Pete stops worrying over his mobile (which is switched off anyway) and stares at her as though she’s announced she’s from another universe and in love with an alien. 

Rose decides that sarcasm in her inner-monologue is still not a great way of stopping the pain, and is actually more akin to being stabbed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

For a second, Pete smiles at her, she returns it and this almost feels real. He ducks his head, hiding his reaction, and spoils everything by saying, “You’ll be a great sister.”

The moment is broken, the smile falls from Rose’s face and she wants to be alone again.

“Half-sister,” she immediately corrects him.

Pete winces at her cold tone and reaches out for her hands that she pulls away from him. “Rose-”

“You’re not my dad,” she reminds him quietly in case someone is listening, just like she was taught all those months ago.

“I’ll keep that in mind if you ever want a kidney,” Pete jokes.

Rose grins weakly, wondering if she’d even notice having major organ failure. “I don’t say it to hurt you,” she tells him truthfully. “But you’re not. You told me that when we met and you were right.”

The guilt that sweeps over him is undeniable and Rose remembers that night like it’s a distant dream. The pain of Mickey’s decision, the heartache of Pete’s rejection, the thrill of holding the Doctor tighter than she usually did… It’s strange. None of it feels like it happened to her. It’s been so long since anything felt so urgent, so tangible. Everything now feels like it’s covered in bubblewrap and she isn’t truly a part of it.

For Pete, however, the night appears to still be eating at him as he wrings his hands and tries to find the words to explain. Rose watches him, wondering if she’s even angry about it anymore.

“I was - was scared that night, sweetheart. I weren’t thinking right.”

She knows what he means, remembering the Cyberunit telling them it had once been Jacqueline Tyler. She knows what it’s like to have a loved one taken from her, to have them speak you from where you cannot reach them. She’d definitely said things in the direct aftermath of that that she hadn’t meant.

Sometimes she is so similar to Pete that she almost wants to believe the story they tell everyone, about the girl who grew up away from her family to avoid media attention, but then she remembers meeting the man who was supposed to have raised her and it’s like a betrayal. She’s always going to be the girl who grew up without her dad or a penny to her name because sometimes life is simply that cruel.

She sighs as she stands up. “Doesn’t change the facts, though.”

Before she can get away from the table, Pete grabs her hand to hold her back. “Rose, the facts don’t mean anything. This whole thing - it’s mad!” he laughs incredulously. “Dave can’t keep up with all of it and he’s the best PR guy in the business. Why can’t we just - make it up?” he shrugs, giving her a hint of the charming smile that is plastered across adverts, posters and magazines around the Republic.

Unable to meet his eyes, Rose looks instead to the counter and sees a woman in an ill-fitting white coat and apron, dishing out beans to a grumpy pensioner. Maybe she should have gone to the little shop, after all.

“I’m bit old for make believe.”

* * *

Until a year ago, Rose had never had a garden. Some of the kids at school would come in with stories of trampolines and inflatable paddling pools and she’d had to hide her jealousy with quick remarks and humour. It was her dream growing up that one day her mum would win the lottery and they could live in a proper house and she could have friends around to play in her back garden. She’d get new school uniform that fit properly and a new pencil case so the year sixes would leave her alone at lunch. Money would fix all of their problems.

Lying in the middle of a garden that’s roughly twenty times the size of the entirety of her old flat, Rose can’t believe how wrong she’d been.

It’s completely silent in the way that only the countryside can be and it’s something she still isn’t used to, much like the zeppelins and everything else. Growing up in a city as busy as London, traffic noise and light pollution were just things that the world had. Losing them is like every other change she’s encountered in that it feels like she’s missing a step going down the stairs.

It’s all just one reminder after another of what a mess everything is.

The full moon hangs above her, making the dew on the ground glisten and she wonders what time it is. She’d come out here at about three after another night of not sleeping properly, after another day of not eating properly and another month of failing to perform other basic tasks that everyone else seems to be able to do without issue.

Judging by how much she is shivering and how far the moon has slid across the sky, it’s been at least an hour. Maybe she should have thought to grab a coat or something.

Tonight, she decides, is the first time that she regrets meeting the Doctor. Taking his hand had led to some of the worst experiences of her life, but the much more frequent better moments more than made up for them. As someone had once told her, he is worth the monsters.

The monsters, however, are nothing compared to this debilitating loneliness that has hollowed her out and robbed her of any kind of emotion. It’s been so long now since she has properly laughed or cried or felt anything other than empty that she has all but forgotten how to be anything other than the shell currently lying in the middle of the lawn.

At work she will make jokes with her team. At the pub she will give Mickey advice about Gina in HR. At home she coos over Tony with her mum. They all think she’s fine most of the time but it’s an act. All of it. She pulls on her mask every day and pretends to care and laugh and it’s wearing her down to the point where she doesn’t know where the real her is any more.

She suspects she’s still crying on beach in Norway. Rose is oddly jealous of this version of herself. She hasn’t been able to cry in months.

The change of scenery isn’t helping her sleep but the idea of getting up and climbing the stairs to bed is horrible and she doubts she has the energy. It’s not her house and it isn’t her life and half the time it doesn’t feel like her family so maybe she should stay outside like the dog this universe’s Jackie Tyler had replaced her with?

This world has never wanted her and she has never wanted this world. In all honesty, the thought of the void, with its limitless and unforgiving nothingness, sounds like a wonderful idea in comparison. At least there she wouldn’t have to play a part, she could simply float and not care and no one could stop her.

Rose closes her eyes and pictures herself encased in darkness, feeling nothing, and never having to face the world.

When she puts it like that, it sounds a lot like death.

Her eyes snap open and she can’t breathe. She scrambling to sit up but her fingers can’t find purchase on the slippery grass and all of her focus is pouring into trying to get some air into her lungs but there just isn’t the space and she’s going to pass out or be sick and this -

“ROSE!”

Pete’s shout come from nowhere and then he’s next to her, pulling her up and holding onto her shoulders. “Look at me, sweetheart, look at me. That’s it. Breathe in for me.”

She wants to tell him to fuck off - can’t he see what she's  _trying_  to do? - but she locks her gaze on him and tries again.

“Come on, breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out.”

It takes a while, but eventually the panic subsides and she can almost breathe normally. Once the attack has fully passed, she notices how hard she’s gripping his forearms and she lets go in order to hug herself. She can’t tell if it’s sweat or the moisture from the ground, but she feels like she’s had a cold shower.

“You’re bloody freezing, love,” murmurs Pete as he pulls his dressing gown off to wrap around her. Soon he’s holding her, still sat in the garden in the early hours, and stroking her back.

It’s then, curled up in her fake father’s arms, feeling like she nearly died, that Rose is hit by how scared she is and the tears are burning her cheeks. After Jimmy, she had sworn she would never let herself come back here, never get this bad again, but this is so much worse than she’s ever known. She has no idea how she’s managed to drift this far or how she’s going to get back this time. Most days she has to fight a battle to get out of bed. How is she going to find the strength to get through this?

“Please don’t tell Mum,” Rose whimpers into Pete’s shoulder. She breathes a sigh of relief when he nods. It’s bad enough that she’s let herself down this badly. Her mum doesn’t need to be burdened with any of this.

Sometime later, she finally stops crying out of sheer exhaustion and is somewhat surprised that she’s still hugging Pete. She tries to think of another time that this has happened but she can only remember that day that everything changed and she’d slipped from the lever and was caught by him, so narrowly missing the void. He’d saved her life and she’s been nothing but a bitch to him ever since.

“You should have let me fall,” she says, wondering why she hasn’t been kicked out yet.

Rose feels him tense. “Never gonna happen,” he tells her firmly, giving her a squeeze.

Unable to form a reply that doesn’t sound insensitive or rude, Rose looks to the stars and begins tracing the constellations with her eyes. It’s something she does a lot, to remind herself that it was all real once upon a time.

_Ursa Major. Ursa Minor. Camelopardalis. Cassiopeia. Andromeda._

Hang on.

“Pete?”

“Hmm?”

“Cepheus is missing.”

* * *

To Rose’s surprise and gratitude, Pete keeps his promise not to tell her mum about the night in the garden.

To Rose’s greater surprise, she keeps the promise she made to him afterwards to look after herself and talk to him if she needs to.

Of course, Jackie Tyler isn’t an idiot and knows that her daughter is far from okay. The skipped meals and apathy don’t go unnoticed and it isn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two Tyler women to be found arguing about it all. If she isn’t nagging Rose to eat more, then her mum is as good as forcing her to spend time with family and friends. While she knows it’s all done with the best intentions, the whole thing is irritating at best because she’s in her twenties and can look after herself, thank you very much. At worst, it’s another reminder that she is letting people down and it makes her feel even worse.

On the other hand, Pete will invite her to watch TV with him without being pushy. It’s frustrating at first, but soon she realises that it means she can still spend time with her family but with minimal social interaction. There’s no pressure on her to add anything to conversation, but being around people definitely helps. He’s sure to remind her to eat once a day, but never pushes her to eat more. He encourages her to tell Tony bedtime stories of crazy aliens in flying blue boxes. She feels stupid at first, but soon finds that talking about the Doctor in the form of stories to someone who doesn’t understand helps but isn’t as daunting as talking about it all properly is.

There are still hours spent staring at nothing and sometimes just getting dressed feels like an unattainable goal, but now she’ll voluntarily spend time with her family and remembers to eat one meal a day without being prompted. She can even mention her old life in passing without feeling like she’s drowning. Plus, after months of being stuck behind a desk, she’s nearly completed her training at work and will soon have the option of becoming a proper field agent. The night she brings the news home, Pete takes her to one side and drops a bit of a bombshell on her.

Which is how she came to be where is now: sitting outside the Torchwood therapist’s office, chewing what’s left of her thumbnail.

“Don’t be nervous,” Pete says from beside her.

She drops her hand into her lap immediately. “’M'not.”

It turns out that since the Garden Incident, Pete has been coming twice a week to see Dr Matthews to discuss how to help someone dealing with depression. At first, Rose was furious that he’d gone behind her back, but she was forced to admit it has been good for her. Plus, once she realised how much effort Pete has gone to, she had been over-whelmed, so when he asked if she’d see her herself, she somewhat reluctantly agreed.

Besides, she knows she’ll never pass the field agent psych test in her current state.

“It won’t be so bad,” Pete says, taking her hand. “I’ll come in with you, if you want?”

She considers the offer, but shakes her head. “I’ll be fine.” Talking to a stranger sounds a lot easier than having someone she knows hearing what will happen behind the door she is currently staring at.

“She reckons you need to grieve,” Pete blurts out when the silence becomes too much for him. “Reckons you need to deal with those feelings so you can move forward.”

“He isn’t dead.”

“Yeah, but… Y'know.”

Rose closes her eyes and tells herself that this is a good idea, that she needs this, that just giving one session a go can’t do her any harm. Although one of her main sources of comfort is based around the Doctor still being alive and out there, travelling the stars, and by the sounds of things, Dr Matthews wants to rob her of this. She sighs and sinks further into her chair.

“She won’t believe a word I say,” she grumbles.

“I think just saying the words might help.”

Rose scoffs. “Until she has me sectioned.”

The wait is taking forever. While ripping open wounds that have barely healed isn’t something she’s looking forward, she’d like to get it over with sooner rather than later. It seems impossible that someone can help her and her unique circumstances, but she’s promised to try and Pete’s taken the afternoon off work and everything to sit outside with her and take her for dinner afterwards.

Her hand is still in his, but she kind of wants her mum instead. Obviously, this gut reaction can’t be helped, but it still makes her feel terrible after all the effort Pete’s put in. Her mum would be talking her ear off now. Giving her advice, making sure she doesn’t want a drink and fussing over everything… Just the thought of her worrying makes Rose’s insides twist painfully.

“Please don’t tell Mum,” she asks Pete quietly for what is probably the third time that day.

He ducks his head to meet her eyes. Most people look at her with pity, but he rarely does. “This isn’t something to be ashamed of, Rose.”

“How many of these books have you read?” laughs Rose to try and break the serious tone he’s trying to set. It takes him a beat to know she isn’t really insulted and then Pete’s laughing, too. It’s all very hesitant and over not long after it begins. Rose misses the days when everything she says isn’t vetted for insights into her mental health. Sometimes a joke is just a joke and not every eye roll or sigh is a cry for help.

“I won’t tell her, but only if you promise to at least try,” Pete reassures her, making everything heavy again. He stalls for a moment, but then puts an arm around her. She is only joking when she mentions the books, but he’s acting like he’s memorised them. Now, though, he wets his top lip and she suspects he’s going widely off piste. “I- I know we haven’t had the best start but…”

His head bows and Rose desperately wants him to stop talking. They don’t discuss the past because they’ve moved on from that. The walls are closing in, the air is suffocating and there are too many people around. She isn’t ready for this, not even close.

“Do you really think I don’t love you?” Pete asks and the look on his face might have once broken her heart, but now she just feels an icy breeze where her reaction should be.

Rose shifts out from under his arm and shuffles to the other end of her seat. The veins beneath her skin are vibrating with the need to get away from everyone. Instead, she fights down the urge to run and asks, “When’s my birthday?”

“27th of April.”

Rose pauses, stunned both by how emotionless her voice is and his correct answer. Slowly, she turns to him and she swears it’s a different man to the one two minutes before. That man was floundering around her, gently prodding her to do better, saying things he was supposed to say and avoiding any sensitive issues. This man is staring at her with purpose, like he’s insulted and needs to prove a point.

“You are the messiest person I’ve ever known but you hate, like, actual dirt,” he says in softer voice than she expects. “You act like you’re too old to like pink but I reckon it’s still your favourite colour. For reasons I don’t think I want to understand, you listen to The Blockheads when you’re having a good day.” He chances a smile, but Rose can’t bring herself to return it.

She’s spent the past year telling herself that this man doesn’t care, sees her as a burden and only tolerates her for her mum’s sake. It turns out that he’s been paying attention and getting to know her, even though she’s shut herself down.

He takes her lack of response badly and sits back in his chair with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “You might not be my daughter, Rose, but it feels like you are. To me, anyway,” he adds desolately. “I hate seeing you like this.”

His admission has her frozen to the spot. There are so many responses on the tip of her tongue that they all tangle into one mess of a denial that she can’t begin to unravel. They all sound childish and mean-spirited in the light of Pete’s honesty, and, she supposes, he can’t help how he feels.

There is one part of it that she can find fault in.

“You’ve never known me any other way.”

Rose watches Pete have another internal struggle, biting his lip and scowling, until he makes his decision and pulls his wallet out. Opening it, he shows her the photos inside. There’s one of her mum and Tony in the hospital taken the day he was born, but he’s pointing to the picture next to it. It’s a professional-looking snap of him and her mum, smiling into the camera at a fancy party and she can’t see what the point of this is. Pete pulls the photo out of its slot and unfolds it, revealing a few party guests and staff in the background.

Just as she’s about to ask why he’s showing her this picture, Rose realises that it isn’t her mum in the picture, but this universe’s original Jackie Tyler.

It isn’t just any wait staff in the background, either.

They’re both laughing their heads off, probably blowing their cover spectacularly. She remembers how her ribs ached afterwards and the way his fringe bounced around as he threw his entire body into the laugh, but she can’t for the life of her remember what they had found so funny. It was likely nothing. Most of the time just being around each other was reason enough to smile.

It occurs to Rose that hundreds of photos have been taken of her since she arrived her. Paparazzi pictures, professional family portraits and even loads taken by her mum. Yet the one Pete chooses to carry with him is one of her truly happy, living the life she wanted with the man she loved. The only portion of the real Rose Tyler that this universe has.

“I just want you to smile like that,” he tells her and she wants it, too. More than even she knew.

* * *

“Of all the loony ideas you’ve had THIS is the stupidest, Peter Tyler! If you think for one second that my only daughter is being blasted across the sky, then you can think again!”

It’s been like this for hours. Rose drops her head on top of her folded arms and counts to ten to try and stay calm.

“Jacks, she’s not literally being blasted out of a cannon. That’s just the name.”

“Oh well, that’s all right then.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I WAS JOKING! OF COURSE IT’S NOT O-FLIPPIN’-KAY!”

She’s been part of the Dimension Cannon project for three months now. Three months of pulling every little thing she knows about space travel and timelines and paradoxes together and presenting it to experts like she knows what she’s talking about and inventing impossible things, so crazy they just might work. It’s been intense and stressful and infuriating and she’s loving it all. Submerged in something productive and actively saving the world feels incredible. Knowing - hoping, wishing - that it will lead her back the Doctor is just the enormous cherry on top.

It’s also been three months of keeping it from her mum, but that part is definitely over now after Mickey let something slip over dinner and promptly scarpered, leaving her and Pete to explain.

“Mum, calm down, yeah?” she eventually snaps. “We know what we’re doing.”

“Rose, you’re just getting better. You’re finally acting like your old self again. Why are you messing it up now?” her mum pleads and Rose knows her problem.

She’s built a life here. She has a husband who loves her, a son who looks just like him and daughter who is coming out of her shell and settling down. The Cannon threatens to break all of that up.

“I don’t belong here, Mum.”

“Rubbish. Your family’s here.”

“He isn’t, though.”

It’s the truth and a choice she has already made several times, but it still makes her mum cry and Rose almost wishes that it was different.

“You might not find him, Rose,” her mum all but sobs. “Don’t go through all of this - getting yourself hurt or killed - if you don’t even know if you’ll find him!”

Rose knows that she might have a point, but being part of this has given her purpose again. It’s been forever since she had a goal like this and it feels fantastic to  _want_ something again. Even if the chance of seeing the Doctor wasn’t a part of it, she’d want to be in the middle of it.

“I know you’re doing well,” she continues when Rose doesn’t respond, “and I am so proud of you, but, Rose, you’re not ready for this, sweetheart.”

“I passed my psych test,” she points out stubbornly.

“Really?” Jackie scoffs, folding her arms. “And were you completely honest?”

“Yes!”

Rose knows she’s blown it when she can’t meet her mum’s steely gaze.

“I’ll tell ‘em the truth. Don’t think I won’t!”

“That’s enough, Jacks.”

The tension in the kitchen changes at Pete’s low command and it’s enough to make the two of them look away from each other. Rose has seen Pete go through a whole range of emotions since she’s known him, but she thinks this might be the first time she’s seen him truly angry.

“The whole bloody universe could end,” he says quietly but clearly. “Probably a few of them. And your daughter is one of the most qualified people on this Earth to deal with it. You should see her, Jacks.” His entire expression softens as he takes her hand. “She’s amazing. Inspires the whole team to be better every day. If anyone can make this work - if anyone can save us all - it’s Rose Tyler.”

He glances at Rose as though he fears he’s overstepped an invisible line and Rose tries to subtly wipe the tears she knows are building up. Her heart might well burst in her chest and it’s such an unfamiliar sensation that it’s almost overwhelming.

“Maybe she needs this project and maybe she doesn’t,” Pete finishes with a smile, “but this project definitely needs her.”

Rose disagrees with him; she definitely needs this project. What she didn’t realise until now is, on top of that, she wants his approval and support just as much.

* * *

She fizzles back into reality and looks out at her team, her friends, and has no idea what she’s supposed to say.

It’s been ten hours since she was last here according to her body clock. To say she’s had an eventful six hours since then would be a slight under exaggeration.

It had started off well, with her landing in what they now know is her home universe, and seeing a large crowd of baffled civilians, harried emergency services and sombre UNIT troops. If she was going to find the Doctor anywhere, it would be in the middle of a disturbance like that.

Of course, she was right and that’s when it had all gone horribly wrong.

What followed had been ten hours of pleading and shouting at anyone who would listen, waving her TARDIS key around until someone paid attention, and then even more questions from a soldier with more pips and medals than Rose could count in her frenzied state.

She had just wanted to see him. Just to be sure. Just to say goodbye.

Eventually, she had been taken to the Tower of London, where an elderly man greeted her. Though he had been introduced to her as a retired Brigadier, he still wore his UNIT uniform as he listened to her tell him about how she had known the Doctor, had travelled with him. As though she had passed some test she hadn’t known she’d been taking, he had nodded and gone on to explain what had happened beneath the Thames.

Only then had she been allowed into the high security mortuary.

“Rose?” Mickey calls from the opposite side of the room and her attention snaps to him. “What happened?”

“He’s dead.”

It’s the first time she’s said it aloud. It doesn’t sound like her voice.

“Dead?” parrots Mickey. “Who is? What about the Doctor? Did you see him?”

Just like it had been to her, the idea of the Doctor dying is so unthinkable to Mickey that he isn’t even considering it an option. He strides across the room with an air of authority he hadn’t been capable of two years ago and pulls her away from the Cannon. Rose feels the concern radiating off of him and knows that the news clawing her apart will do the same to him and she doesn’t want to be the one to hurt him with this.

“Babe,” he says quietly, “you’re scaring me. And not in a good way.”

Everyone has their limits and this is hers.

As strong as she wants to be, to keep this to herself and keep her vow to never hurt Mickey again, she knows she can’t do this alone and her resolve is falling apart quicker than she can rebuild it.

“The Doctor, Mick, he’s dead.”

The day his Gran died and he’d come straight to her flat before phoning any of his family. That is the last time she had seen this expression on his face.

And just like then, he pulls her close, as much to comfort her as it is to hide his own pain.

Times will change and stars will implode, but Mickey Smith will never change and she is so incredibly grateful for him now.

“Rose,” she hears someone call her from somewhere outside the haze around her and her oldest friend. “Rose, are you sure this is the right universe?”

While the her body is oddly light, Rose’s head feels three times its usual weight and she struggles to lift it from Mickey’s shoulder to see the speaker is Pete. Immediately, Mickey busies himself with a nearby computer, pressing buttons at random. It doesn’t take the damp patch on her jacket to know he’s crying and trying to hide it from everyone else so Rose does her best to detract attention from him by moving closer to Pete as she nods.

“Everything’s the same,” she forces out, her throat beginning to close up. “There’s an odd spike, like, six months before in the timeline, but the readings are right. It’s home and it’s him and - and it's  _real_ and-”

Even if she wanted to carry on speaking, she can’t, as her voice is cracking too much. Tears are slipping out of her eyes and she presses her fingers into them to try and stop it. All it does is add splotches of purple and green to her vision, but she has to do something to keep it together.

Rose knows pain. She remembers watching her dad die in her arms, the Doctor fading into nothing but a memory on that beach and finding the undeniable proof that Jimmy treated her savings with the same contempt as her heart. She remembers the way that the pressure crushed her lungs and her eyes burnt and she could have been sick at any minute.

She feels it all right now, along with the eyes of the entire department, and it all just  _hurts._

Somewhere, deep down, in the back of her swirling mind, she clings to each second and holds it, rejoicing in how real it is. Six months ago, this would have had her going through the motions and trying to tick the boxes she was supposed to.

It may be the worst she has ever felt and she wants it to stop before she collapses, but Rose knows this is so much better than the alternative. This is being human.

“Sweetheart, please, listen,” Pete begs her when she gets her breathing in some kind of order. “What do you mean spike?”

She looks to him and sees hope and it crushes her further. It’s over. Why can’t they realise this? “About six months before I landed, there was something, but-”

Pete’s already turning to the group of technicians gawping at the pair of them. “Well? You heard her! Six months prior to landing! Check it out! What do I pay you for?”

“Pete, don’t.”

“No. You can’t have been in the right universe.”

“Pete-”

“Boss! It looks like a-a well… It’s a bit like a parallel, but it’s weird.”

Everyone else stops breathing, but Rose doesn’t allow herself to hope. She’s just about surviving this. If she’s raised up, only to be dropped again, she doubts she can.

There’s chatter and background noise, but there’s also Mickey’s hand on her arm and she’s focusing on that for now.

“Did you get to speak to him? You know - before?”

Rose shakes her head, unable to look at him as his grip tightens.

Then Pete’s back in her eyeline and he’s brought his Breakthrough Face with him. “It’s some kind of parallel, Rose! Minor change, but a change! You can fix it! Find out what it is, put it right and everything will go back to how it’s supposed to be!”

“It’s finished.”

“No. It’s not over yet. It’s not over until the stars are back and you get that bastard to finish his bloody sentences.”

Before Rose can reply, Pete, with an energy she didn’t know he still had, has bounced back to the chief technician. Against her judgement, she knows she’s starting to get caught up his excitement.

“Right, and this is after I bring him back from the dead?”

He looks up and shrugs. “Think who you’re talking to, love,” he chuckles. “Death is nothing to a Tyler with a goal in mind.”

The corner of her mouth twitches in something that could be a smile and she nods.

He’s right, of course. The job’s been impossible all along and that’s never stopped her before.

* * *

Her fingers fly across the keyboard, like they have a hundred times before. It’s imperative this has her full concentration. Donna has died to make sure she can land in the right place, at the right time, and she will not be wasting her sacrifice. Plus, if she stops and thinks about what this jump means, this final jump, then she might not be able to go through with it.

Other than the hum of the machine and the tapping she’s making, the building is all but silent. No stars have been seen in three days and people are spending time with their families before the inevitable end.

Rose can’t afford such luxuries. Ironically, if all goes to plan, she will be the only one never seeing her family again.

_Concentrate, Tyler._

She has a job to do.

One last click and the Cannon - her pride and joy, the bane of her life and all the hope she has left - whirs into life. Energy crackles and lights flash. It’s time.

Unable to look back, she shoulders her gun and leaves her return jumper on the side with a long letter to her mother and brother that she can’t think about right now.

She’s so caught up in her preparations that she doesn’t hear the door open or realise someone is stood behind her before they speak.

“Didn’t think you’d leave without saying goodbye.”

It’s Pete. Of course, it’s Pete.

“I… couldn’t.”

He nods knowingly and moves closer to her. His face is calm but every other part of him is filled with the urgency of a man in charge of a complicated operation. “I’ve told Jacks you’re catching up on paperwork. Mickey’s coming over for dinner so I’ve asked him to get some ice cream on his way over. Neither of them will know what’s happened for a good hour. Hopefully,” he smiles ruefully. “Wouldn’t put it past Jacks to have sensed this is happening and already be on her way.”

Rose jerks her head, not knowing how to respond. Her mum and Mickey will tear him a new one when they find out he’s robbed them of their chance of a proper goodbye or, more importantly, a chance to follow her. It’s nearly enough to make her stay and save him.

He drops his gaze, probably suspecting what she’s considering and trying to stop giving her more reason to follow through with it. She needs to go. The whole multiverse needs her to go.

And yet…

“Thanks,” Rose manages. She straightens her shoulder strap for something to do that isn’t what she should be doing.

“Well…” coughs Pete. “I’m meant to look after you. It’s my job, innit? I’m your boss.”

She already feels awful as it is, but that sentence still manages to make her insides clench painfully.

The buzzer for the twenty second warning sounds and, once again, there isn’t enough time to say everything she wants to. It’s all far too reminiscent of That Day and she throws herself into Pete’s arms just because she can.

He’s shocked at first, but he hugs her tightly and presses a kiss to her hair. The only thing that stops her from shutting the machine down and joining everyone else as they wait for the apocalypse is the thought that the next pair of arms to hold her will be the Doctor’s. It’s not enough to stop her fighting tears though. Surprisingly, she hears Pete sniff above her and realises she isn’t the only one.

“Go on, gal,” he says, pulling away and cupping her face. The motion pulls at her heart and, like last time, she wants to curl up and have someone else deal with the mess that surrounds them. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“No - I-” Rose stutters. Words have never been her strong suit and she’s never hated it more than right now. “I couldn’t have got here without you, Dad, so thanks. So much. For all of it.”

She backs away and he lets her go, his professional exterior transparent against his broken expression. This will be the last view of him she’ll have of him and she wishes it was one of him happier, stronger - more Pete-like. With this in mind, she smiles as the three second begins.

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, too.”

Her response is automatic, the product of nearly four years of nightmares, but she knows it’s not a lie. As she feels the pull of the Cannon, readying her body to be flung through tiny, improbable tears in the fabric of reality, she realises what else she said without thinking. Before she has chance to question the truth and reason behind  _that_  word, the room is pulled from her and she has a job to do, a world to save and another conversation to finish.

* * *

Her hands are bleeding.

The offending broken tumbler has long been disposed of in the hotel bin, but the cuts are deeper than they have any right to be and the plasters from the reception are inadequate. It isn’t like she meant to smash it, anyway. Being left properly alone for the first time since returning to Norway meant her thoughts are returning to a certain beach and things that need saying.

Or don’t. Apparently.

Like goodbye.

Rose puts her newly-bought toothbrush down before she throws it and ends up smashing the mirror or something.

It’s been a rough two days and crawling into bed sounds perfect, but the elephant in this universe is currently snoring lightly in the bed next to it and is making it difficult to leave the bathroom.

She’s faced Daleks, for fuck’s sake. He isn’t even conscious…

Yet another choice is ripped from her when the phone rings from the nightstand in between the two beds and she rushes to answer it before it wakes the room’s other occupant.

“Hello?” she whispers, sitting cross-legged on top of her duvet.

“Rose? It’s me.”

“Oh - hey.”

Hoping the smile on her face transfers to her tone because her tired brain can’t think of any more words, Rose bites her lip and waits. So much has changed since they last spoke, but she still remembers how they left off. It’s almost as awkward as things are with the other man in the room.

“Long time no speak,” he says in that jittery way of his that two decades of meeting CEOs and world leaders couldn’t ever properly stamp out.

“Not really. Only a couple of days on my end.”

“Oh. Well, it’s been four months here.”

“Four-” Rose covers her mouth, remembering she isn’t alone. She knows time moves slower in her original universe but the reality bomb must’ve altered it even more. He’s spent all that time without her and his wife, worrying, trying to keep everyone calm because as long as they were gone then the darkness was being fixed. “Shit.”

“It’s good to hear your voice though.”

“Yeah. You, too.” It’s only now that she hears how strained his voice sounds. Typical, really. He’s not only a bloke, but a political and public figure. Keeping his emotions close to his chest is second nature and Rose understands how relieved he must be to have cracks showing.

There’s a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of bedcovers being shifted under. Rose slides down her own bed until she’s curled on her side, entranced by the sight of that familiar face lost in slumber and the breathing coming through the speaker.

“Your mother filled me in on what happened already. Sounds… complicated.”

Rose laughs softly. “Yeah, could say that. I’ll explain when we get back. You know - when I’m not falling asleep on my feet. And don’t have sand in my hair,” she adds, wrinkling her nose.

“Yeah, God forbid your hair looks bad.”

“Shut up.”

He’s the one laughing now and it’s a comforting sound. Rose closes her eyes and she can pretend he’s playing with Tony in the living room as she watches from the sidelines. Remembering she’s on the phone still, she tries to lift her eyelids but she’s at the level of tiredness where she can’t tell if she’s cataloguing the freckles and lines on the face of the person opposite her or an image projected in her mind.

“So,” Pete says, pulling her back to reality temporarily, “he’s back with you?”

“No,” she replies automatically, but then hesitates. “Well, yeah but… it’s like a human clone of him or something.” The explanation is inadequate, bordering on incorrect, and she hopes it’ll be clearer in the morning. All she knows right now is there is a man in her hotel room and she honestly isn’t sure if she wants him in her bed or in another hotel entirely.

“He’s the same but different?”

“Yeah,” Rose sighs. It’s a perfectly good summary, after all. Especially from what’s she’s seen so far.

“Bit like me?” chuckles Pete.

In his sleep, the Doctor rolls over to face her and runs a hand through his hair, making it a complete mess.

“Yeah.”

Seven years ago, Rose suspects she wouldn’t have hesitated to cheekily suggest the two hotel beds could be pushed together. While she’d had her share of hardship, there’s still fewer things more invincible than a seventeen year old. Even at nineteen she’d have been flirting more than could be considered playful. Now, she’s older, wiser and understands that some things take time and having your heart broken is so much worse than the songs ever make it sound.

Basically, she’s not the same person the Doctor met in a basement in London. She’s not even the same person who was taken from him in a tower across the same city.

Life has a habit of changing people. No one’s who they used to be.

“You okay?” Pete asks and Rose smiles into her pillow.

“Think so. Yeah”


End file.
